


Spreading Ruin and Scattering Ban

by Seascribe



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Canon-Era, Crack, Gen, demon goats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 08:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is perhaps true that the goats have trampled somewhat on Marcus' dignity, but that is not why the hair rises on the back of his neck every time he catches them looking at him with their suspicious, flat eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spreading Ruin and Scattering Ban

**Author's Note:**

  * For [motetus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/motetus/gifts).



> This is entirely Motetus' fault, as she asked for demon goats on the OT3 farm. Title from Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Yep.

"You are only upset because they won't behave for you," Cottia tells Marcus. "You cannot learn everything there is to know about tending livestock just from reading your Roman treatises." 

It is perhaps true that the goats have trampled somewhat on Marcus' dignity, but that is not why the hair rises on the back of his neck every time he catches them looking at him with their suspicious, flat eyes. They are only dumb beasts, but Marcus--though he would not admit it to anyone out loud--is beginning to wonder if there might not be something untoward going on. 

But he is the man of the house, and it is not for him to engage in such childish fears and fancies. Likely it is nothing more than something off in their feed, and Marcus resolves to check it against his books on the morrow. 

He is uneasy that night, but that is only because he ought not to have had that second helping of Cottia's savillum. And anyhow, even if there is something amiss, there is a wolf guarding the villa's threshold, and Marcus' gladius is as sharp as it ever was when he marched with the Eagles, there in its place on the mantle. 

The first hint that something is amiss comes from the geese, cackling and flapping restlessly in their pen. Cub comes awake, growling deep in his throat, and a few moments later, Esca appears in the doorway. 

"It is that there is something in the stable yard," he says. "A fox, perhaps." 

"I do not think Cub would be so upset over a mere fox," Cottia says, sliding out of the bed. "Far more likely it is a horse-thief, or someone else with ill intent."

Marcus is inclined to agree, although privately, he thinks of the sense of foreboding that has plagued him all day, and wonders if the two can be unrelated. Still, if it is a horse-thief, then there is no time to for idle speculation--the farm is too new and poor to stand any loss in their livestock.

Cottia lights a lamp for Esca as Marcus takes down his gladius from over the mantle. Esca has his dagger, and Cub comes snarling at their heels as they go swiftly into the stable yard to see what is amiss. 

The geese are still making their racket, and Marcus reaches out to throw open the stable door, hoping it will give them the advantage of surprise. But before he can, the air is rent by a burbling shriek, and he flinches back. 

"Marcus!" Cottia comes running out from the farmhouse doorway, carrying another lamp. She stops in the shelter of the rabbit hutch, her eyes wide and fearful. "What was that?" 

Marcus shakes his head. There is a low, agonised groan from inside the barn, and he tightens his fingers on the latch, looking to Esca, who gives him a swift nod. At first, Marcus can see nothing but dim, grey shapes, but Esca raises his lamp higher and they resolve into the horses in their stalls, stamping their feet and rolling their eyes, and in the goat-shed, a cluster of movement. There is the sharp, coppery tang of blood in the air. 

In the goat shed, something writhes on the ground and lets out another moan, a human noise, of the sort Marcus used to hear in his nightmares when he had first joined up with the Eagles. Cub's growl rises into a sharp, quavering howl, and in the flickering lamplight, there is the flash of several pairs of yellow-slit-eyed pupils, and Marcus knows that this time, the malevolence glinting in their depths is not his imagination. 

The body on the ground of the goat-shed has gone silent, past any help, and the doughty old bellwether puts his horns against the shed gate and tests its strength. The wooden slats creak ominously.

"Back to the house," Marcus says. "Quickly, go!" 

"The horses?" Esca asks, looking over his shoulder.

"We will have to leave them," Marcus says. If a herd of docile goats can rip a man to shreds and devour his flesh, Marcus does not want to see what the horses would do if taken by the same evil. The villa is sturdy, they will be safe there long enough to formulate a plan. Esca kicks the barn door shut behind them. 

In the farmhouse, Cottia methodically goes from window to window, checking to be sure that all of the shutters are firmly latched, while Marcus and Esca secure the front and rear doors and the kitchen entrance. Marcus listens intently, trying to discern what is happening in the stable, while Esca sharpens every blade he can bring to hand and Cottia lays out a hasty meal to break their fast. But he can hear only the ceaseless, frightened cackle of the geese. 

"As soon as it is light, we will deal with them," Marcus says. The high, narrow window in the atrium, the only one unshuttered, is beginning to brighten faintly. Cottia shudders and sets a portion of the breakfast bread on the little altar she and Esca keep by the hearth. Across the room, Marcus offers up his own quiet prayer.

Outside, the geese have fallen silent. There is a moment of perfect stillness, and then Marcus hears the eery, many-echoed bleating, seeming to rise up from all directions, and then the dull ring of cloven hooves against timber.


End file.
